


In Which Astronomy is Not a Waste

by AStudyInAlgedonics



Series: In Which Sherlock Knits, and Other Tales of 221B Baker St. [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: I just really like the idea of John making Sherlock go look at meteors okay, M/M, Perseid meteor shower
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-08
Updated: 2012-10-08
Packaged: 2017-11-15 20:56:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/531610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AStudyInAlgedonics/pseuds/AStudyInAlgedonics
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John sometimes likes to make Sherlock do things he doesn't think are worthwhile. Sometimes Sherlock even admits he has a point.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Which Astronomy is Not a Waste

**Author's Note:**

> Meteor showers are cool shit, guys. I wish I'd had better weather to see this last Perseid shower. 
> 
> Check me out still not owning things.

Sherlock hadn't expected to see what he did upon returning home from a (disappointingly obvious) burglary case.

( _One of those ratty blankets Mrs Hudson gave us last winter, folded under a medium sized wicker basket. Basket's impression in the fabric indicates it's already packed with something. From the smell, there's takeaway in there, Chinese, the shop down the road. But it's dark already. Taking a date on a midnight picnic, then)_

"I feel compelled to inform you that if you're taking her to a park, you'll want to carry your gun," Sherlock informed John as the latter came out of the kitchen with two thermoses - probably tea - in his hands. "There are unsavoury types out and about at this hour."

( _Not to imply John is unable to defend himself or a companion, he certainly is that, but it would be safest for him to have it_ )

"Hello to you too, you berk," John said, crouching to put the thermoses in the basket. "I'm well aware of those types, I run around with you, remember? And this isn't actually a date. I've got something to show you." He stood back up with the basket and threw the blanket at Sherlock. "C'mere."

Curious now, Sherlock followed John upstairs and to the roof exit, clambering through and, under the other man's direction, spreading the quilt out so they had a decent place to sit. For his part, John opened the basket and started setting containers out.

( _Beef with broccoli, salt and pepper chicken - that's his - two orders of spring rolls, the ones with the chicken, both beef and duck curry…He's trying to get me to make up for the past few days of cases with a great deal of protein)_

He felt a sudden surge of affection for John. Nobody else bothered to make sure he ate  -Lestrade might pester him every so often after particularly long, drawn-out cases, but that wasn't the same as what John did: make the order himself because he knew Sherlock wouldn't, look after his physical needs because he was well aware that Sherlock couldn't care less about what he deemed 'transport'.

Sherlock wondered why they were on the roof.

( _It's dark. Something to do with the sky? Is this going to be another of those tedious solar system lessons that I'll just have to delete after?_ )

He didn't have enough data to guess. "Why are we out here?" he asked, accepting a box of the beef with broccoli and a pair of chopsticks from John.

"Look up," John said, jerking his chin - quite unnecessarily, Sherlock knew which way was up - at the sky. He did so - and a moment later, saw: a streak of light, tinted with blue, overhead.

( _Meteors! Colour indicates a layer of copper in its makeup, currently being ionized due to its high-friction passage through the atmosphere)_

"It's the Perseid shower," John said, and out of the corner of Sherlock's eye, he could see that John was also looking up. "I know you don't really care about astronomy, but you said you appreciate it, and I figured you wouldn't know about this happening tonight-this week, really."

A few more stars -( _no, they're not actually stars, they are the visible path of meteoroids crossing the atmosphere_ ) shot across the sky before Sherlock answered.

"It's lovely."

John grinned at him, and Sherlock couldn't help returning the smile. "Brilliant, yeah? I used to make a point of watching it every year, got out of the habit…"

"What reminded you?" Sherlock asked, because the reason John had stopped was evident in his frown.

"Saw a news piece on it - before you burned the newspaper, you git. I thought it might be fun to come up here."

They ate in companiable silence for a little while, watching the lights flash across the sky; then John pointed out a particularly purple one. "What does that?"

"Potassium," Sherlock answered, without having to think. "It's the heat, pulling off electrons, a basic chemical reaction."

John laughed. "Knew I could count on you. Pass me the curry, will you?"

Sherlock did, and John took it, and if their hands brushed a little longer than necessary, that was just an accident.

( _Though it's certainly pleasant. John's hand is very warm, nice up here in the breeze_ )

And that was quite enough of that line of thought. "John," Sherlock said, his voice catching a little, "thank you. For all this." He waved at the (mostly eaten now) food and the sky.

"I'm glad you appreciate it," John said. "Instead of telling me it's a waste of brain space and flouncing back inside."

"I do not _flounce_."

"Yeah, you do."

Sherlock scowled at him for a moment, but after a few moments, he couldn't hold back the mirth at John's expression. As soon as he started giggling, so did John. In a few moments, they'd both laughed themselves breathless and fallen back on the blanket, to just stare up at the sky.

( _This is very, very good, nothing on a case but still, a nice runner-up, and do people actually wish on these things? Why do they? Large blocks of minerals hurtling through space do not have the power to bend reality and make wishes come true_ )

"Before you open your mouth and ruin the moment, I'm just going to tell you I did make a wish and you can just be quiet," John speaks up.

"What did you wish for?" Sherlock says, because he's not going to just shut up.

"I can't tell you, it won't come true otherwise."

 _It won't come true anyway, it's a prayer uttered to a piece of metal,_ Sherlock wanted to say, but he propped himself up on his elbows and looked at John. "Am I allowed to deduce it?"

"Go ahead and try."

( _John knows I won't just let an unanswered question sit. Very well. Still relaxed, but focused, did not have time to slip off into a fantasy about something else. Therefore his wish involved this, friendship, bond, whatever this is we have. No immediate problems, nothing that would leap to mind in the time he had to wish. Therefore, it's not a wish for me to change or be easier to live with. Sentiment, then)_

"You…don't want what we have to change," he guessed.

"Close, not quite it," John said. Sherlock frowned.

( _John's sentiment usually channels itself into caring, protecting, nurturing. Would shoot a man for me, makes me eat, denies me my patches even when I'm irritable with the withdrawal - oh)_

He couldn't speak for a moment. "You don't want to lose me?" Sherlock finally said, his voice trembling a bit.

"How did you - that's brilliant, I didn't think you'd actually get it," John said. "Yeah, that's it."

"You don't have to think at a meteor to get that wish, John," Sherlock told him. "I'm not about to _leave_."

"Good."

**Author's Note:**

> (Clearly this was BEFORE Reichenbach ever even considered happening.)


End file.
